I was stealing saltshakers again. Ten, sometimes twelve a night, shoving them in my pockets, hiding them up my sleeves, smuggling them out of bars and diners and anywhere else I could find them. In the morning, wherever I woke up, I was always covered in salt. I was cured meat. I had become beef jerky. Even as a small, small child, I knew it would one day come to this.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 17238 | 2021-03-17 00:50:19 | 79.10 | 96% |
| 17189 | 2021-03-16 06:30:45 | 66.72 | 95% |
| 15060 | 2021-02-12 23:55:52 | 90.53 | 97.3% |
| 14336 | 2021-02-06 20:15:39 | 87.72 | 96.5% |
| 12981 | 2021-01-23 06:20:53 | 89.20 | 96% |
| 12551 | 2021-01-18 12:02:07 | 86.56 | 96% |
| 10995 | 2021-01-05 16:26:39 | 63.27 | 95% |
| 10053 | 2020-12-30 18:54:28 | 75.30 | 97% |
| 6095 | 2020-07-01 22:05:48 | 65.62 | 95% |
| 1697 | 2020-05-30 05:01:33 | 67.30 | 96% |